NOTES & DISCLAIMERS: All made up. For entertainment only. Much discussion of Joss Whedon and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. And the Buffy Musical.

REST IN PEACE

Fucked. Lance was thoroughly and completely fucked. He'd called JC and gotten a quiet no. He'd called Chris and gotten "whatever, just call Justin, will you?"

So Justin it was. Justin would save him. Lance dialed, waited, cursed the digital ring and then, finally. "Yeah? Lance?" Justin coughed.

"Yes. Justin, you have to help me. Please."

Justin coughed again. He said, "You know it. What do you need, man?"

Lance said, "Thank God. Seriously, I just need you to sing a song. This stupid. Look, okay, it's this thing Joey said he'd do but it got pushed back and back and now they say it has to happen next week and he can't, so he says, and that's all you have to do."

Justin said, "Whoa. I can't. I can't sing. Seriously, man."

"You can't sing?" Lance winced. He didn't know he could screech like that.

"Man, no. It sucks, but I have this cold, you know? I emailed you. When I emailed you. I've been going to the doctor three times a fucking day and getting these shots and they all keep saying." Justin paused and coughed again. "Okay, they say I'll be fine, but no singing for three weeks."

Lance said, "Are you sure? Seriously? I just. God, Justin, they want me to sing. They're all, you promised us someone from NSYNC, we don't care who. And I tried to explain and they said you promised us someone from NSYNC." Lance inhaled and rubbed his neck.

"Who's they, what's going on?" Justin coughed again. He did sound horrible.

"It's this charity thing. God, I agreed to it a year ago, and Joey was gonna do it. It's, like, it's stupid. It's off-Broadway musicals, that's the cute thing, and Joey was supposed to do this stupid Buffy thing." Lance tried to calm down. "I agreed to it a year ago, and Joey was gonna do it and now he can't. So, now it's finally scheduled and Joey can't do it. He's got some thing with Kelly."

Justin remained quiet for a moment. "So you can't just cancel? Or, it has to be next week or never?"

"It's already been pushed back for a year. Next week or never and I can't cancel. I suppose I could, but I, God, I should. I wanted to impress these people and I thought Joey could do it. Fuck, he's done Broadway."

Justin coughed and then said, "Some Buffy song? Which one?"

Lance looked down at the piece of paper he'd balled up and crumpled and almost torn in half and now smoothed out. "It's from the Buffy musical. It's like, I dunno, someone named Spike sang it?"

"Oh, cool. Shit, man, I couldn't sing that if I was well. I mean, I could try. But. It'd be good for you. You can do it." Justin coughed and it felt like nails on the chalkboard of what Lance decided was his soul.

"I can't do it! I can't, or I'll bet we could get them to wait three weeks."

"You just said it has to be next week." Justin sniffled a little and made the kind of sound that Lance's cat made when Lance was little. It wasn't a good sound when Lance was little and it wasn't a good sound now. "It's a really great song, though, it'd be fun to record."

"If I tell them the mighty Justin Timberlake'll do it, I'm sure they'd be willing to wait." Lance would be willing to wait. Lance would be willing to wait forever. He was starting to consider things he'd do for Justin to make him agree, like giving him a kidney. But Justin kept saying no.

"I totally support you though, Lance."

"I'm gonna hang up now," Lance said, "And lock myself in the basement. You can tell people I'll be down there, but they'll never find me."

"You can so do this. You have a really -- look how fine you sounded on 'Here and Now'! Or on the last tour. The song fits your voice way better than it'd fit Joey's."

"On 'Here and Now', y'all were there. Y'all were there on the last tour. If I do this, I'll have to do it by myseeeeeeelf." Lance drew the last word out, like Justin used to do with words when they were in Germany.

"I feel your pain, Lance, I really do." Justin sounded sincere. Hoarse, but sincere. "But I'm kind of on my death bed here, and you keep going on about this fucking song, and I don't know what you want me to do."

"I want you --"

"Other than sing it."

Lance sighed. "You could come down heeeeere."

"Who's your producer?"

Lance shrugged. "I don't know, they have staff ones and stuff. Nobody good."

"If you -- look, it's not like I have any plans for the next three weeks anyway, I can come and I'll sit in and make sure this staff producer person knows what he's doing."

"You'll really come?" Lance started to feel better, almost actually okay for a second, until he remembered that what Justin was coming to was Lance's recording session. Lance, singing a song. A whole, entire song, by himself.

"I'll come." Justin coughed again, kind of gagged at the end. "But now I've really gotta go."

Lance thought of the most calming thing he could. He remembered the view of Earth from space and thought, anything you want, anything you want could really happen. Which had worked for about a year before everything went to shit. One movie that actually made money, even if Lance hadn't been in it. A great album, a great tour. Love of his life by his side.

Then Joey dumped him. And nothing else had precisely gone to shit in the last ten months since then, but Lance reckoned being dumped by your best friend and boyfriend of three years so he could get back together with the mother of his child, a child he fathered while cheating on you when your relationship was only a few months old and Lance stopped that train of thought. Dumped. Dumped.

So things were okay. He and Joey were okay, the guys were okay, they were about to go back into the studio, his wonderful group, in just three weeks and Lance was waiting outside the studio where he had to record a song all by himself. Lance shuddered. This officially qualified as things gone to shit.

Lance wasn't going to walk into that studio without Justin. No way, no how. Then a cab pulled up and Justin's new bodyguard got out and held the door for Justin. Lance grinned.

Justin was wearing a turtleneck, he had a black scarf wrapped around his throat and the collar of his jacket was turned up. "I know it's just psychological, man," Justin said, a little less hoarse than last week but still sounding like shit. "But it makes me feel better." He patted his throat. He hugged Lance and said, "Good to see you, man."

Lance said, "Thanks, man, thanks for coming."

They got inside and the staff producer smiled. Weasel, Lance thought. He'd never met the guy but somehow he could tell. Weasel. Lance looked over at Justin and Justin raised an eyebrow.

Justin grinned. "Hey, man, nice of you to come, but, really, I got this."

Lance smirked. "Yeah, Justin's produced a lot. He's got it."

The producer frowned. "Are you sure?"

Justin kept grinning. "Totally, man. Take the day off. We got this."

After the weasel slunk off, Justin asked some sweet production assistant with a gap in her front teeth like David Letterman to get him some tea. Justin said, "That guy looked like a weasel. I got your back, man." Justin sat down and fiddled with the knobs. "Did you watch the musical? You got the DVD I sent?"

"Is that what that was?"

Justin made a face and Lance laughed a little. The longer he got to talk about the dumb fucking musical, the longer he got to put off actually singing by himself. "I watched it. I mean, I tried to watch it. But I didn't understand what was going on."

Justin crossed his legs. "How much did you watch?"

"I got -- after the lesbians sang their song of, you know, lesbian love, and my song. Then I stopped."

"Dude, there's still great stuff after that. You missed the demon! And the dance number with Dawn. Oh, and the big REVEAL! Where she tells them that they pulled her out of heaven." Justin smiled at the assistant when she gave him a cup of tea with a wedge of lemon. "It's really good."

"What's the -- Spike's a vampire or something?"

Justin nodded and sipped the tea. "Yeah."

"And Buffy doesn't like him?"

"Not really, no."

"So why doesn't Buffy just kill him? She's a vampire slayer, right? Why doesn't she just kill him?"

"It's complicated." Justin untied and retied his scarf. "What'd you think of your song?"

Lance didn't want to talk about his song. "They pulled her out of heaven?"

"Complicated, man. What about your song?"

Lance sighed. "It's a perfectly fine song. He's a vampire, he wants Buffy to leave him alone."

Justin shook his head and leaned forward. "No, no, he doesn't. He loves her."

"He's a vampire." Lance rubbed his throat. He wished he were a vampire. He'd throw himself in front of Buffy and hope she'd kill him like she apparently hadn't killed Spike.

"He is but he loves her. It's complicated. So, you know, that song. It's like, okay, the demon, he makes everything a musical and all the songs go on too long. They all say shit they didn't mean to." Justin grinned. "Get your ass in the booth. The instrumental's done or what?"

Lance said, "I guess so." He walked into the booth. Too late to die, too late to fake his death. Too late to somehow make Joey take him back. Lance sighed.

He could see Justin through the glass, talking to the engineer. Then the engineer looked down and Lance smiled. Justin had told the engineer not to look at him. It was sweet.

Justin spoke to the mic so Lance could hear him. "Okay, scratch vocal, man, let's roll. Not the real thing, just something to sing along to. You got it?"

Lance nodded. Swallowed twice and looked down at his lyrics. Cleared his throat. There was no one in the world he didn't hate right then.

Three hours later, Justin said, "We have tomorrow, too, right?"

Lance rubbed his head. "Just two hours."

Justin said, "Okay, okay, man. Look, let's do one more and then call it a day."

"We've only been here three hours."

"Dude, we're on the fiftieth take. For serious, I have to say, I won't patch this shit together, we're gonna do one good take. You gotta, man, soul. It needs soul." Justin grinned again, more tired than actually happy, Lance thought.

"Vampires don't have souls, you said." Lance stuck his lower lip out.

"God, Lance. Okay, you know, he doesn't have a soul, but that's not the point. He loves her, he wants her to go, he wants her to stay. It's love and it's fucked up and twisted and you know that."

"I don't know fuck all about the show, Justin." Lance sighed.

"You know about love." Justin stared at him. Lance sighed again.

The last take sucked again. Lance threw down his headphones and came out of the booth. Justin had already gotten rid of the engineer. Justin handed Lance a cup of tea and said, "Okay, we got a scratch vocal. Tomorrow we'll nail it."

Lance sipped his tea. "You don't really think that."

"Yes, I do. I know you. You'll be great once you decide you will be. You can do anything." Justin coughed and wrapped his scarf around his neck again. "Come back to the hotel with me? I brought my season one, two and three DVDs. We can watch!"

"Season one, two and three?"

"Buffy! So you can understand the song better." Justin grinned and Lance felt like an ass, so he grinned back.

Justin popped the DVDs in when they got back to Lance's hotel room and started explaining everything as it happened. Lance said, "Wouldn't it be easier if I looked up an episode guide on the Internet or something?"

Justin squeezed honey into his cup of tea. "Well, sure, but it wouldn't be as fun."

Even though the DVDs were supposed to teach Lance about the history of Buffy, Justin kept skipping around on the episodes. "That one was called Innocence," he said.

"Real picker-upper of an episode, that one was."

"Did you like it?"

Lance shrugged. "There was almost no Spike in it."

"He's not in all of them, dude." Justin got up and changed the DVD. "Have you talked to Joey lately?"

Lance picked at the hem of his shirt. "Define lately."

"Well, have y'all had an actual conversation since you broke up?" Justin sat back down, close to Lance.

"It was ten months ago, Justin. Of course, we've talked." Lance shifted away from Justin.

"No, I mean. I mean talked. I mean, hi, you were together for all those years and now you're not and you got dumped and have you even dealt with that?" Justin moved even closer to Lance, breathed in his face.

"What, what do you want from me?" Lance backed up against the armrest.

"I want you to be happy." Justin sat back. "Why don't you just tell me?"

"Tell you?" Lance rubbed his forehead and looked at the selection screen on the TV.

"Telling me might be helpful, to you. I think." Justin brought his knees up and rested his cheek on his knee.

Lance started to say something, hopefully sarcastic and biting, but he just couldn't think of anything. He said, "Helpful? Helpful. Huh. He cheated on me. He did that a lot. One time, he got Kelly pregnant, is how much he cheated on me."

"Was it really a lot, or was it just a few times? And one time he was just super-fertile or stupid?" Justin coughed and covered his mouth.

"Isn't that enough? I was -- I was never good enough for him." Lance leaned forward so Justin couldn't see his face.

Justin folded a Kleenex. "You know I love Joey like I love Steven and Jonathan, right?"

Lance nodded, he knew that Justin really thought of all of them as brothers.

"But, he's not; he can't be faithful, man. He didn't cheat on you because you weren't good enough for him, because that's what he thought or whatever, Lance. He cheated on you because that's how he is."

Lance sighed. "Okay, A, I don't know how much I believe that. B, if you think that about him, how do you respect him or whatever?"

"You can respect somebody and still recognize their faults, dude. You can be friends with a person and still realize they're not perfect." Justin reached for the remote. "Nobody's perfect, man, and it's not, it's not as pat and easy as that, but you keep trying, you know?"

"But. But. He loved me. He said it." Lance sighed. "God, it's just pathetic."

"What's pathetic? He's, like, your best friend. Seriously. What's better than being with your best friend? Really?"

"Well, being dumped by him pretty much sucks, so good on you for not doing it." Lance sniffled.

"You mean Chris? We tried once, man, for like two weeks. But it was weird and we were all scared of the weirdness. We lacked your courage." Justin made a serious face and nodded.

"It wasn't courage. It was stupidity. Complete stupidity."

"But you gotta try things. You gotta. It's like, try and try and try. And you fall on your face and you've tried."

Lance snorted. "And your face hurts and there's dirt. On your face."

"Pick yourself up and brush yourself off and start all over again." Justin smiled.

"Don't sing. Sing and I'll throw something at you."

"Right, right. I won't. No singing. I can't sing." Justin coughed, just a little, the faker. "But, Lance. You're the crown king of trying. I mean, you got thrown out of the space program. And you went back. And you did it. So one thing didn't work out, not for your lack of trying and one thing did. So ergo, you're batting 500, and that's better than anyone in the history of baseball has ever done over their lifetime ERA thing."

"Do you know that for sure?" Lance was almost grinning.

"Well, I read it in a Robert Fulgum book." Justin smiled. "Anyway, you and Joey'll be friends again and you'll nail the song, which is another trying thing, and then we're set."

Lance rolled his eyes. "Okay. Fine. I'm going to bed."

Justin stood up and said, "Word. See you in the morning."

And then it was morning, one of Lance's top five scary mornings of all time. The day he got onto a rocket ship and blasted into outer space, that was pretty scary. Suing Lou and all of that was pretty scary. But recording an entire song by himself, and only having two hours to do it, was pretty fucking scary

Justin still wore that stupid scarf to the studio, but he handed it to Lance when they got there. "For luck," he said with a smile. Lance decided he hated Justin.

And then. Justin counted him off and the music started in his headphones and when Lance opened his mouth, he actually sang. And sang well. He thought it was some type of Christmas miracle, or something. A Christmas miracle in October.

Justin nodded and said, "We're really done. Quick, get out of there. Let's not jinx something."

Lance was eager to leave. He practically ran out of the door with Justin trailing behind him. Justin grabbed his arm and said, "I have to go back. You know, mixing. But I can get that done this afternoon. So, how's that for trying?"

"It was good. You think it's gonna be okay? You're gonna make me sound okay?"

"I won't have to do shit to make it sound okay. Really. You sounded great. But, you know, you --" Justin coughed and flinched. He started whispering. "You did good. Risks and trying. See?"

"Justin, point taken." Lance smiled. "Thank you for your pep talks and Buffy things and Robert Fulgum." Lance reached out and rubbed Justin's arm.

Justin smiled, something slightly different from his previous happy smiles and encouraging smiles. He said, "I like you when you're trying things. It looks good on you. And you know, you have a motherfucking sexy singing voice, Bass." Justin pulled his scarf off Lance's neck slowly. "But I have to get back to the studio and make you all good and done. So, you know, call me tonight?"

Lance grinned. "Oh, I'll try." Justin covered his mouth and almost laughed. "But I should probably call Joey, right?"

Justin nodded. "Good idea."

Lance leaned over and kissed Justin's cheek. "Well, you know." Justin waved as he went back to the studio. Lance stood on the street for a moment and walked. He walked back to his hotel and sang the stupid ass song under his breath the whole way. He did sound okay. Maybe even good.

THE END.

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